Mutant Stories from the Field
by Calliann
Summary: Aubry Anders tells about her time with a couple that changed her life. Rated for language and subject. Be forewarned it's a sad one and please R&R. Romy. One shot. This is it folks. FINISHED.


Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or most likely anything you recognize.  
  
New York Medical Journal, August 2019  
  
Mutant Stories from the field:  
  
Hospice Care  
  
By Aubrey Anders  
  
Now, I'm not a scientist or a doctor or a writer for that matter. I'm just a nurse. Hospice to be exact and have been for the past twenty years. A lot of people tell me it's rather morbid, going in to take care of someone knowing that they're going to die, but it's all I've ever wanted to do. When I was thirteen, my father was diagnosed with cancer. Terminal. And I remember how hard going to the hospital was. Reminding you everyday that they're not going to be with you much longer. Now some people get comfort out of the hospital atmosphere, and there's nothing wrong with that. But for some, it's just a grim reminder of the future to come. I vowed then and there that if I was going to go into medicine, it would be to help ease the pain of the dying and the grief of their family's in a more loving atmosphere.  
  
Now, it was about, fifteen years ago, when I was about twenty five, that I met the people that would change my life and the way I viewed it. Put it in an even brighter light. I was sitting at home one day, a Thursday, and my phone rings. I had just gotten back home from a different job and was tired. A woman I'd been taking care of for six months had passed on that morning. So I decided to kick back and relax when the phone rang and I answered it and got the shock of my life. On the other end was the world renowned Geneticist and physician, Dr. Jean Grey-Summers. When she told me who it was, I didn't believe it at first. I mean, why would someone that well known calling me. ME! A simple hospice nurse. I mean, what could she want with me.  
  
We spoke for several minutes, during which she told me that she'd called around to several agencies, looking for the best nurse for the job. A friend of hers had been diagnosed terminal and the family needed a nurse right away and she'd heard I was the best. Now you've got to understand what an honor this was, to be asked by someone whose medical articles you read religiously offering you the chance to help care for a dear friend because she heard you were the best? Well I'm sure you'd imagine it was the proudest moment of my life, but in actuality it wasn't. I was more concerned about the patient. It was then that we arranged a meeting for the next afternoon to discuss his case and where I'd be staying and all the other particulars.  
  
Now, I was well aware that Dr. Grey-Summers was a mutant and that odds are the friend she wished me to help tend to was one as well, but that never bothered me. I'm a nurse, not a politician. As far as I'm concerned, people are people. Hell, I'd help tend to a dog if it would help ease it's suffering or cure his pain. It's about life, and not all that confusing political crap in the middle.  
  
So I went to a small corner café at 1:30 the next morning, nervous like I was before every meeting with families. It's always hard, to see that look of either hope or defeat. I remembered seeing her sitting there with a rather handsome looking gentleman. He was tall with lose bluish colored hair falling around his face. At first glance his eyes looked almost yellow. And there next to him sat the lovely Ms. Gray. I had only seen her once before at a medical conference a few years before. Her vibrant red hair fell loosely around her shoulders, framing her long pale face as she looked intently at her friend. It was like they were having a conversation without words. Only then was it that I remembered hearing that one of the good doctors gifts was telepathy. I walked briskly over to their table and before I could even speak I was greeted with a warm smile and a welcoming handshake.   
  
It was as pleasant a conversation as it could be. The gentleman with Dr. Grey-Summers was Father Kurt Wagner, a priest and friend of hers as well as family to the patient. I can still remember our conversation so plainly, as if it just happened moments ago.  
  
"He's very important to us," Dr. Grey-Summers said as she showed me pictures of the man and his stunning wife and their two beautiful children. "He's under the care of myself as well as Dr. Henry McCoy but it doesn't seem that we're having any progress at the moment," her voice trailed off then and I could hear the tears behind it. Being in my line of business, I've seen this reaction before so I was ready with a comforting hand and smile. She accepted both gratefully and continued. "He's one of us," she stated, touching the red and black X that was stitched over her heart. My eyes widened I'm sure, knowing that this man was one of the illustrious X-men, only then was it that I recognized the man from the picture from the television reports. She saw my reaction and nodded a bit, as if reading my mind, although now that I think of it, she may have been. "He's married," she told me. "To another member of the team. She takes care of him mostly but it's getting harder on her with there two year old daughter and three year old son running around, so he'll require twenty-four hour care," My heart broke as she told me this and I looked at the picture of the smiling faces. It's hard enough dealing with a family member whose dying, but even worse when there are children involved. Especially toddlers losing a parent.   
  
It was then that Father Wagner informed me that his sister, the patients wife, was not particularly happy that they were in contact with me, or with me moving in with them. He informed me that he had taken a leave from his church to move in and help his sister and brother-in-law, but sadly, even he and his faith were not enough. They warned me then that his sister wouldn't be easy to get along with, and would make my life pretty much hell for awhile until she warmed up to me. If that ever happened. And boy was that the understatement of the year.  
  
I thought about it for a moment, but never hesitated in agreeing to help them. And not because they were the X-Men, well known saviors of our kind and our world, or because it was Dr. Jean Grey-Summers, a well known Geneticist . But because someone needed me and I'd never said no to anyone who needed me before. So I made arrangements to arrive at the house up in Manchester on following Tuesday so I would have time to make my preparations.  
  
I still remember climbing out of the cab and looking up at the two story home before me, complete with a wrap around front porch and balcony's facing the driveway, woods surrounding all sides of the beautiful white home. I knew that farther back on the large lawn and more in the center sat the famous Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. I was in awe as I walked up the front steps, noting the children's toys strewn around the porch, the swing swaying slightly in the breeze and the Harley sitting in the driveway next to the hunter green Durango. The house looked so peaceful and full of love, it hurt looking at it, knowing that inside, someone was dying.  
  
I walked up the four steps to the oak door and knocked three short raps. I can almost hear them now as I sit here writing this article for you. The air smelt crisp after the lovely spring shower, that I would learn later was caused by one of the mansions residents and chief instructors. The sky was clear as birds sang. It was like a scene from a painting or a movie as I waited for the door to be opened. And then there they were. Two vibrant gems for eyes staring at me, a smile gracing her lips and two white streaks framing her face. She was a little taller than I was, and beautiful with full curves in her cream colored sundress, complete with little red roses and a two year old little girl on her hip. "Hi, you must be Rogue," I remember saying, holding out a hand. "I'm Aubrey Anders. Your brother and Jean hired me." And as the words left my lips her face fell.   
  
Her voice was rich and southern as she curtly replied hi and moved from the door, leaving it open for me to follow or leave. And judging from her body language, it was the latter she wanted me to do.  
  
"Kurt fixed up a room fer ya," she began talking as I closed the door and followed her in, dragging my bags with me. "It's this way," she said, never looking at me, just walking briskly down the hallway towards the downstairs bedroom. I followed, getting a feel for the place and it's warm, welcoming atmosphere. And the cold wave of dislike flowing from the woman in front of me. The little girl watched me from the comfort of her mothers shoulder as we walked, waving with her small hand as we moved, red and black eyes glowing beneath her white and auburn hair. Suddenly Rogue stopped before the door, turning and glaring at me. "Get settled and ya can meet Rems." If it were at all possible, her voice grew colder when she mentioned me meeting her husband. I watched her turn and head around the corner and up the stairs and let out a sigh as I entered the room. It was bright and airy and felt like home already. It didn't take me long to get everything set up and to freshen up before I entered the hallway. It was quiet and I could smell a spicy scent coming from the direction of the kitchen. I walked that way, entering the large room, done completely in oak and stainless steel with black marble counter tops and an island in the center. Rogue stood at the stove, stirring a large caldron while across the room, near the large windows at the breakfast table sat a tall, lean yet muscular man, his face unshaven and his red and black eyes tired as he fussed over the two children seated next to him on the benches. The little boy sat coloring next to his father, smiling periodically as he gazed up at the older man, both had auburn hair although the boy had his mothers eyes.  
  
I couldn't believe that Remy was the one dying when they told me. I had heard the stories of the X-Men, I mean, who hadn't? And of course I'd heard of, and seen pictures of the famous Gambit and his Rogue. She was my age for crying out loud and he wasn't that much older. It just didn't make any sense. I mean, sure he looked a little tired, but other than that he seemed to be in perfect health. He turned and greeted me with a rich Cajun voice and every bit of Southern hospitality in his body, offering a hand and gesturing towards the seat opposite him.  
  
"Bonjour Mademoiselle Anders," I still remember him saying, taking my hand and kissing it as I came to stand next to the table. He then gestured for me to sit and turned back to his children, and obvious pride and joy. "And dis is Angelica and Matthew," it was then that the little girl smiled and offered a soft Bonjour as she rose on the bench and curtsied before returning to her picture. "Matthew, dis here be Mademoiselle Anders. Say Bonjour," he prodded the little boy who stared at me curiously for a moment. I waved at him and he looked away shyly, hiding his face behind his fathers arm. That's when I first heard Remy laugh, and let me tell you it was a joyous thing to hear. Loud and full of life and love. "Y' mus' forgive mon fils," the man told me, wiping a tear from his eye as Rogue came over with a glass of water and a juice cup. "He git's his attitude from his mère." I remember the look of irritation pass over the woman's face, which is something I'm sure anyone could have seen, but being the trained professional I am, I was able to see something more, in her eyes. They were full of pain and love and even a little bit of hope as she lightly hit his arm and handed him the water.   
  
"Hush up Remy LeBeau," she said as she turned and glared at me, the hate returning easily to her eyes. "So yer here ta help meh right?" she almost growled.  
  
"Of course that's what I'm here for," I began rising. Now, I know what a lot of you guys are thinking. 'You're a nurse, not a maid.' Well let me tell you, when you're in a situation like that, it doesn't pay to act like your above lending a hand in any task. Granted your primary job is to care for the sick and dying, but sometimes that can be accomplished simply by easing the day to day load and making the moods in the home more positive and I intended to do just that here.   
  
"Stay outta mah way," was all Rogue said as she turned back towards the pot. This was going to be harder than I originally thought. I heard Remy sigh and turned to look at him as he offered me an apologetic smile.  
  
"Matthew, Angelica, why don' y' show Miss. Anders y' toys non?" Remy said, lifting the boy and placing him in the floor as I rose and Angelica followed me out from the table. Both took one of my hands and led me towards the living room to show me there things. Now, I don't want to say that I was listening in on their conversation, cause I wasn't, but those rooms were built so voices could carry and create easy conversation and I heard the whole conversation, and like everything else from that job, I can recall it in vivid detail.  
  
"Cherie," Remy was telling her firmly. "Now, we talked 'bout dis. It be fer de best. Y' need help."  
  
"Really? No one bothered to ask meh if Ah did," Rogue replied back coolly.  
  
"Now Roguey we been thru dis. Y' know its only gonna git worse mon amore," it was here that she cut him off.  
  
"Hank said there's a shot," there was hope in her voice as well as fear.  
  
I heard the sigh escape his lips and I knew it was hard for him too. Just from the few moments I'd seen of him with his family, they obviously meant the world to him, and leaving them was killing him more than the disease. "We got t' think realistically ma chere."  
  
"Since when?" Rogue barked back, anger replacing the other emotions for a time. "When have we evah lived "realistically" or thought it, least of all ya! Ah mean, hell Swamp Rat who was chasin' meh around when mah skin could kill em? Who used ta ditch all o' Wolvie's danger room sessions?" now I could hear tears in her voice as I noticed the children did as well, sad looks crossing their faces as they looked at the floor. "Who's stupid enough ta try and break a promise ta meh huh?" At this point she stormed out of the room and into the front hall. Our eyes met for a brief instant and I could see the tears still sliding down her cheeks as she turned and ran up the stairs. It was then that Kurt decided to come home, witnessing the last of the little display and sighing, cramming his hands in his pockets and looking defeated as he trudged into the kitchen. I later learned that he understood his sisters grief better than anyone, having lost his own wife, Amanda, in a car crash two years before which had sent him into the priesthood. He found comfort in his faith where his sister could not. I heard quiet mumbling coming from the kitchen and then saw Remy slowly making his way towards the stairs, offering me a smile as he stopped in the front hall. "Désolé," he said before heading up the stairs, in search of Rogue.  
  
It wasn't long before I got to meet the great Dr. Henry McCoy himself. He came by after a rather silent, and tension filled dinner. He was a kind, good hearted man, and not at all shy about his physical appearance. Now, I'd seen mutants before, even those with obvious physical mutations, and even Dr. McCoy himself on various television programs and newspaper articles, but nothing prepared me for the blue furred Beast in person.  
  
"I'm so glad you're here," he told me as he filled me in on Remy's case and exactly the kind of care he would require after Rogue and Remy left to put the children to bed. He also warned me how lately, Remy's condition had begun to deteriorate rapidly. I listened carefully and took notes and asked questions like any good nurse, making sure to go over every detail twice with the doctor while I had him there. When we were finished he went to leave, stopping and turning at me, giving me a curious look before asking, "So how has our Miss Scarlet been treating you thus far?"  
  
I had to sigh then, and shake my head, confessing that I wasn't sure how I was going to get thru this as much as she hated me so far. It was then that he put a friendly hand on my shoulder and looked at me thoughtfully. "She doesn't hate you my dear, just what you represent," he told me, pulling off his glasses with a large apelike blue hand. "As long as I've known Rogue she's been a fighter, never taking no for an answer. Mr. LeBeau was much the same way, which I think is what initially attracted them to one another. This is something she can't fight out right so she's doing it the only way she knows how. By rebelling against everything and anything that threatens to take the love of her life away from her. Now you may not understand this, but you're the embodiment of Rogue's biggest fear. I believe she feels that if she accepts you being here, and maybe even by simply having you here, a hospice nurse in her home, that she's giving into what's killing her husband. The father of those beautiful children and the first man to touch her, physically and emotionally, that she's losing the battle. Never fear though," he gave my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm sure you're more than capable of this job." He grabbed his files and went to leave, turning once and adding, "Tell me, you can duck a punch I hope?"  
  
It was a feeble attempt at lightening the mood and it worked, as I broke into a good laugh. I still speak to Dr. McCoy quiet regularly now. We grew quiet close over my six month stay at the LeBeau residence and in fact, he's writing an article for this very journal, and I'm told, it will be released in this issue, but I digress.  
  
Things went relatively smoothly the first few weeks, which in turn quickly turned into months. Rogue avoided me at all costs, or simply ignored my presence as I went about taking care of her husband. And Remy seemed to be doing everything in his power to make life more enjoyable for all those concerned. One of my fondest memories, was one late Saturday night, I walked into the living room to find him and Kurt sitting on the couch watching home movies. Rogue was putting the children to bed and they invited me to join them. The one they were watching was the tape of Rogue and Remy's wedding. They looked so beautiful and so right together as they danced across the floor. I remember hearing a slight chuckle from the door way as Remy dipped Rogue dramatically on the screen. I turned in the chair and saw Rogue leaning against the doorway, watching the movie with tears in her eyes. I remember the look of mischief in Remy's eyes when I looked over at him and he rose, walking over to his wife. "Remy may not be as young non more," he told her taking her into his arms and spinning her, dipping her low. "But he still know how t' charm de femmes." They were both so happy, dancing in each others arms as if they were the only ones left in the world.  
  
All of that changed quickly though when Remy's condition took a drastic turn and left him confined to his bed most of the time. Save for the few times he could talk Kurt and Rogue into taking him into the living room with the rest of the family.  
  
It was a Friday and I'd been at the house for about four months when I walked into the kitchen after taking Remy's vitals before he laid down for a nap. Kurt was out for the day running errands and Rogue and the kids had headed over to the Institute to visit with one of their good friends, Ororo Monroe, so I thought I'd have a cup of tea and relax a bit. I entered the kitchen and found Rogue sitting at the table, her head buried in her arms on the tabletop as she sobbed silently. I got a good look at her then. She looked so exhausted as her hair fell in messy curls around her arms and her body shook violently in her blue jeans and one of Remy's t-shirts as she sobbed. Slowly I walked over to the table and placed my hand on her bare shoulder, trying to comfort her as best I could whether she wanted it or not. As I touched her skin, she jumped startled and I felt an odd pulling on my fingertips and lightheaded all of a sudden. I felt myself waver and the next thing I knew she caught me just before I hit the floor, helping me into a chair and getting me a glass of water. My head was spinning as I took the glass, a wave of exhaustion washing over me.  
  
"Tarnation gal! Ya shouldn't sneak up on people lahke that," she said placing her hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Ya scared the livin' hell outta meh."  
  
"What happened?" I remember asking groggily as I sipped the water, trying to combat the dry feeling in my mouth.  
  
"Mah power," Rogue replied, seemingly satisfied with my recovery as she sat down opposite me. "When someone touches mah skin, it can absorb there memories and life force, and wit mutants there powers. That is, if Ah don't concentrate on controllin' it. Ya startled meh and it kicked in lahke a defense mechanism." She paused for a few moments as I downed the water and regained control of my senses before continuing. "Ah guess no one told ya huh?"  
  
I shook my head, clearing the fog as well as answering her question. "Must have made dating fun." I swear to you the words left my mouth before I could think to stop them, or at least take the sarcastic tone out of them.   
  
She gave a snort and picked up a glass I hadn't noticed yet, talking a long drink. "Yeah, fun as hell," she commented and I could smell the bourbon on her breath. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. I mean what do you say? She's watching her husband die and her three year old had just asked her what dying meant that morning at breakfast and if he was going to die too. I mean, there'd be something wrong if she didn't need a drink. "But that damned Swamp Rat never seemed ta care. Chasin' meh around," she sighed and I saw a far off look appear in her eyes. "Ah hated him at first y'know? Used ta always make meh so mad on purpose ta. We weren't always on the same team. He used ta work fer the enemy. Even kidnapped meh once. Then when he joined the X-Men, he wouldn't back off. Wouldn't let meh be. And before Ah knew it, we were friends, and then we were more before Ah even knew what hit meh." She took another swig and smiled. "And the next thing Ah know, here we are. The house, the kids and everything perfect. And now this shit!" Here, she threw the glass across the room, causing it to crash against the fridge and sending the amber liquid to the floor as she sunk her face into her hands. "IT AINT FUCKIN FAIR!" she sobbed as I rested a comforting hand on her arm. Just letting her get it all out of her system. "Most of our relationship we were fightin' or kept apart cause of mah damned skin and now this. We're finally happy. Ah mean we got two little kids! How am Ah gonna explain this ta them?" Now she was mostly talking to herself, rather than me, her tears falling freely.   
  
Finally, I decided I had to say something. Show her that I did give a damn and wasn't just there for the money. I had to ease her pain somehow. "Y'know," I began, unsure of what to say really. "I've been doing this for a long time and it seems to me that it becomes a lot easier once you accept it for what it is and just live life the best you can with the time they've got left." As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. Rogue's head shot up and I'm sure I received her patented death glare, that up until then, I had only heard about from Kitty, Rogue's former roommate.  
  
"So give up? Is that what yer tellin' meh?" she growled at me, rising and levitating off the ground a bit. I had heard from the others that she could fly, but had never seen it until now. That led me to think that the other powers I heard she had were true as well, and if she hit me right now, she'd probably send me flying into the next county without gaining a scratch on herself. "No Ah ain't givin up! He nevah gave up on meh and Ah'll be damned if Ah do it to him." With that she flew, literally flew, out of the room.  
  
It was a couple of hours later and I went up to check on Mr. LeBeau, figuring that Rogue had left up to the Institute. What I found broke my heart. I entered the room to find Remy, lying in bed, his wife curled up against his chest sleeping soundly, tear stains on his shirt and dried paths running down her cheeks. He was stroking her hair, hugging her tightly, protectively, and for a moment our eyes met and I figured it out. I was about to say something when he held a finger to his lips. The movement stirred Rogue and I quickly ducked around the corner before she saw me.  
  
It was about a week and a half before Rogue spoke to me again. I was sitting at the table with Kurt, Kitty, Ororo Jean and her husband Scott while their son played with Angelica and Matthew. We were all just having friendly conversation, laughing about nothing when Rogue entered the room. She looked exhausted as she gazed on at us with her emerald orbs, her eyes finally falling on her two children, a single tear falling from her eye. We were all speechless as we watched her. Finally she spoke, looking directly at me. "Ah'm sorry about the other day," her voice was incredibly quiet. "It's jus'," she sighed and looked at her trembling hands, trying to find the words to explain to us all what she was feeling. It wasn't until she looked back up at her team, her family, that she found the words. "He's been protectin' meh, or tryin' at least, since the day we met. And he's tryin' ta do that now. Askin' Jean ta hire a nurse," I watched as a deer caught in headlights look passed over Jean's face, knowing that she was caught as I listened to Rogue continue. "Havin' mah brother move in so he can port inta our room every mornin' while he thinks Ah'm still asleep ta make sure mah husband's still breathin' so Ah ain't the one ta find him dead. Makin' Scott and Logan keep meh busy on the days he's really hurtin' so Ah don't have ta see him suffer," the tears began to flow freely and silently from her eyes as even the kids stopped playing to look at her. "Smilin' for meh and lyin', tellin' meh everything's gonna be okay." She paused and took in a breath closing her eyes for a moment, trying to stop the tears. She looked at us again, and for the first time the determination was gone and a lost little girl stood before us all. "If he thinks Ah accept it, and Ah'll be okay, he won't be fightin' so hard ta protect meh. And Ah'm just afraid that he'll stop fightin at all and Ah can't lose him. Ah jus' can't," her body began to shake as she sunk to the floor, sharing her fears with us all for the first time that day. I watched as her friends grouped around her, trying hard to comfort her. Even her children threw themselves at their mother. I looked up and caught a glimpse of something I was never meant to see then. Remy LeBeau leaning against the wall, watching his wife sob. Our eyes met and he let out a sigh before turning and heading slowly back up to his room, struggling with the stairs.   
  
After her breakdown things were a lot different around the house. Rogue was more civil to me and we actually started getting a long like friends. For the next two months Remy got worse, but then seemed to have stabilized and Hank and Jean were making some huge breakthroughs. It was August 24th and the house smelled wonderful and Rogue was in a joyous mood. It was their sixth anniversary. I watched as she bustled around the house making everything perfect for their evening. Remy watched from the couch with an amused smirk on his face as she set up a table with candles and everything. Rushing into the kitchen periodically to check their dinner. Kurt and I were busy getting the children ready to head over to the mansion where we'd be spending the night, giving the love birds a night alone. Rogue had the mansion on speed dial in case anything happened and one of us was needed. At about two Remy pulled the kids into his lap, kissing and hugging them tightly as he told them he loved them. I found out later that he left letters and videos for them to view later on, so they'd always remember their father. We left at around four that evening and had a blast over at the mansion. It was so wonderful being around all those supportive and loving people.  
  
I went back to the house late the next afternoon to get one of the kids toys. I went into the back door quietly, not wanting to disturb the happy couple. I didn't even see Rogue sitting at the table as I started across the kitchen. It was then that her voice caught me off guard.  
  
"He waited till after our anniversary," her voice was soft and scared the hell out of me. I jumped and turned to face her. She sat at the table silently, an empty cup and bottle in front of her. "Said he wanted ta make love ta meh one more tahme." She choked on a sob at this point looking away. "He knew."  
  
My heart stopped and I felt the color drain from my face. "When?" I asked after a few moments.  
  
"This mornin'," she filled in, running her finger over the rim of the cup. "He asked meh ta git him some water and Ah jus' had a feelin' that he jus' wanted meh outta the room. So Ah asked him, are ya dyin' on meh Rems, and he said Oui," at this point she hugged her arms closer to her, tears falling down her cheeks. "Ah new he didn't want meh ta see it but Ah couldn't leave him alone. So Ah sat there and asked him if he wanted meh ta call Hank and he said it wouldn't do any good. Then he asked meh ta tell the kids he loved em, and ta remind them everyday. And then he said he loved meh, and Ah told him Ah loved him and Ah kissed him, and Ah held him and then it was over. And Ah came in here ta call y'all and Ah just sat here with mah bourbon and then Ah hear ya. Aubrey, he's gone." And after she said that, she fell into a fit of hysterical sobs.  
  
I watched her cry and for the first time on a job, I did too. The tears fell before I could stop them or even knew they were there. I wiped my eyes and walked up to their room and sure enough, he had no vitals. I went over to the phone and called the mansion and after that, everything moved so fast it's like a dream. They buried him three days later, and I stayed for the funeral. When I returned home I found a flower basket with a thank you note from everyone at the Institute.  
  
Before that job I tried to maintain a level of distance. In my line of work you have to or else every job will kill you. My job is to comfort and help, but not become attached. And sure, it's impossible to stay completely emotionally unattached, but I had never gotten in that deep till that job. After that I had a new respect for my job and for the suffering of my patients. And for the mutants at the Xavier Institute, as well as in general.  
  
When I was approached to write this article I was going to turn it down. I mean, it's no one's business really and I'm no author. As you can obviously tell from how this is written. Then I was talking to Kitty on the phone a few weeks ago and told her about the article. You see, I've kept in contact with everyone at the Institute since I left. Angelica's a senior this year and Matthew just started college. It was a few days after I talked to her that my phone rang. I answered it, expecting another job and was shocked to hear a familiar southern voice over the phone.  
  
"Ya have ta do it sugah," Rogue told me after we talked about the article. That's why names were used. When I asked her why she gave me the best answer I could have ever heard. She let out a sigh and began, "Well sugah the way Ah see it, everyone keeps tellin' meh what a beautiful thing Rems and Ah had," at this her voice tightened, like it always did when Remy's name was brought up. "Maybe if ya tell the world about it, they won't hate us so much."  
  
So here it is. My field story. Working with these people changed my life, and not because they were mutants, but because they were human beings. All mutants are human beings just like the rest of us. So my hope for this is that after you read it, maybe you'll see that too.  
  
Authors Note: Don't hate me. I know it's sad and depressing cause hell, I cried writing it, but it was just hounding me and I had to get it on paper. Hopefully I'll be able to do the same on the next chapter of Wandering Souls but no promises.  
  
Translations:   
  
mon fils - my son mère - mother Désolé - Sorry 


End file.
